The Guardian of Golarion
by sayain673
Summary: Betrayed by his ideals, Counter Guardian EMIYA resigned himself to an existence of bloody servitude in the name of the greater good. But when his contract with Alaya expires, he is sent to a world of legend, where humans exist alongside creatures of myth and adventure is only a sword-stroke away. Would this be his chance to become the Hero he once dreamed of? RATED M to be safe...


Writer's block is such a pain in the ass for our kind. It also doesn't help to be at that age where college searching suddenly becomes top priority or else "[my] life will be a total ruin". Inspiration for most of my works is getting increasingly hard to find as my parents keep cracking down on my ass if I do anything to find the "inspiration" (use your imagination...) to update. I have stuff planned out, but the rendering of said stuff gets increasingly harder and harder as the summer break draws to a close. Fanfiction is supposed to be a healthy outlet for me, but even here I find myself surrounded by certain people who clamor incessantly for updates (A/N: You know who you are, unless you're one of those people who asked via PM and I sent back a response, in which case, you're alright in my books...). Oh yeah, throw in a few incidents of bad luck -losing my USB with my fanfiction drafts, losing my cell phone in my own house, putting a dent in my iPod frame- and I am **THIS** close to taking a long walk off of the World Bank headquarters' short roof.

Phew. I got that off my chest. Now to other things...

Since my last update, I've returned to the old table-top RPGs in the long absence of interesting things to do on my ps3, as killing zombies repeatedly gets redundant as fuck. And I thought to myself as I built my own campaign, "Wow, the Magus class in Pathfinder is nothing like the one in the TYPE-Moon franchise". And thus, my thoughts went immediately to a certain cynical Counter Guardian.

With an endless array of Pathfinder Modules and adventures to select and put Counter Guardian EMIYA into, perhaps I might be able to find some inspiration to update the other stories. And who knows? Maybe I'll let the readers pick any OGL 3.5 compatible adventure...

**DISCLAIMER-** sayain673 does not own neither the "Fate/" franchise or its characters. He also does not own the "Pathfinder" franchise or its characters. They are both owned by TYPE-Moon/Kinoke Nasu and Paizo Publishing, respectively. Ironically, I am indirectly paying the latter company to write this story. Adventure paths/modules and additional content rule-books are expensive...unless you order online. Paying up front at the hobby store is even more expensive!

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_Protector of the status quo- "Counter Guardian"._

_Now, in order to destroy those who would lead to the destruction of the human world, "he" is sent to the earth._

_Essentially, this is just a sign of the end._

_Believing the trade to be just, he always carries it out through the end. Afterwards, all that remains was the wreckage of the that trade._

_From spinning a thousand lives, only one body remains._

_From protecting a hundred million hopes, ten million laments is all that is left._

_Any justice there is disappearing. And other than justice, there is nothing._

_The only providence is that "they" are forgiven._

**-I am the bone of my sword.**

_…But still.  
It seems he did not care.  
There was an ideal and an oath he had to protect.  
He did not care what he lost to do so._

_Even when he was betrayed, he believed there would be a next time if he did not betray himself._  
_He did not show grief or pain._

**-Steel is my body. And fire is my blood.**

_He is like a cold-blooded machine to others.  
He is a convenient existence, so he is conveniently used._

**-I have created over a thousand blades.  
Unknown to death.  
Nor known to life.**

_It's not something to go around proclaiming.  
The more he kills and the more he is unable to save, the less he can talk about his ideal.  
The only thing left for him is to obstinately protect his ideal until the very end._

_And the result…_  
_The ideal Emiya Shirou dreamed of has never been accomplished, and he found out that it's just nonsense dreamed by a fool who is only a nuisance to others._

**-Have withstood pain to create weapons.  
Yet these hands will never hold anything.**

_What he believed in.  
What he believes in.  
He's shown that it is just a fantasy that is covered with lies, and still-_

**-So as I pray, Unlimited Blade Works.**

_"He" follows that ideal to the end of his existence._

**_The Guardian of Goldarion  
Chapter One: Masters of the Fallen Fortress [Prelude to Battle]_**

**_[Released 10/28/13]_**

The throbbing pain in the back of his head lessened enough for the halfling to raise his head. It took him a great effort not to cry out in pain, but he wasn't about to give his captors the benefit of watching him squeal. Squinting through tightly clenched eyes was the only thing that was enabling him to see a few feet in front of him. The only things that were visible were the iron bars of a cell and the hulking shadow of the gigantic lizard that threw him into the tiny room. And the _stench_ of it, too. By the gods, the stench...it only served to make him even more lightheaded.

With a barely audible growl, he began to get up, murderous thoughts worthy of a Cheliaxian noble running through his head as well as the bloodiest of ways that the gods-damned troglodyte could get rid of the smell. But as he started towards the door, the _clank_ of metal against metal was his only warning as he felt his momentum suddenly halt, only to be pulled back by the chains that had been wrapped around his chest and limbs. The halfling fell down with a noisy crash, unable to stifle a cry of pain.

"Heh, heh, heh," the troglodyte gurgled, turning to face him. "Halflings hardy and strong, but not as dwarves." The broken Common that came out of its maw was a slight to his refined ears. "Master knew you put up struggle. Master tell Tulok bind chains tight."

"A troglodyte that can speak Common," the halfling murmured, wincing as he touched his sides. There was probably a broken rib, cracked if he was lucky. "Broken Common, but Common nonetheless. Good gods, what is the world coming to.."

Turlok didn't appear to hear him, and continued to hiss. "Turlok know you as bard, halfling. Sees pretty flute and harp when Master brought you here. Master tell Tulok no hurt you, but if Tulok hear you sing..." It drew a dagger across it's throat in a pantomime execution scene. "Sacrifice to Tulok's gods come sooner, silence voice forever...heh, heh, heh..." Its laughter faded away as it caroused out of sight, the echoes of its chortles ringing down the hallway.

The halfling lay against the wall, slumped and downcast. Belatedly, he noticed that the only thing he had on were his traveling clothes. Now, this wasn't a surprise, but the fact that he was bereft of weapons and musical instruments left him rather vulnerable. He shook the hidden pocked in his boots...nope. The scaly bastards took his back-up harmonica, the instrument that he had placed there in lieu of a knife.

Cursing whatever god had landed him in this fine mess, Lem was beginning to think that setting fire to his master's house wasn't the best of ideas.

_-Scene Break-_

He stood at the edge of the ship's railing, allowing himself to feel the sea breeze in his face. To an extent, he enjoyed the sense of _freedom_ that the action gave him, freedom that he had never had until recently. The tales of adventure his sister had told him as a child now had some validation, despite the fact that they were written with a female audience in mind. "Tales of the Chivalrous Pirate", indeed...

But for the feeling of liberation that it gave him, it did little but literally blow salt into the sore wounds on his pale face. The hand on the railing clenched in anger as its owner's thoughts strayed back to the time of his imprisonment, of his torture, courtesy of the Hellknights. Useless and pandering to their inbred superiors. He spat over the side of the deck. If he ever ran into a Hellknight again, the sword strapped to his belt would find itself buried in the Cheliaxian dog's entrails-

"Absalom sighted, Captain!"

The voice that came from the top of the ship's mast jolted him out of his bloody thoughts and he turned towards the prow of the ship. In truth, he had no idea where the ship he was on would weigh anchor. That was attributed to the spur-of-the-moment decision to gut the thieves who attempted to rob him and spend their coin for passage to gods-know-where. At the moment, he would have called it stupid, making a decision on instinct given his high intellect. Yet in another fashion, it seemed the most appropriate action to take after his release.

Absalom. The City at the Center of the World. The City of Aroden, god of humanity, and resting place of the Star Stone. A cynical grin caused the corner of his mouth to curl up in amusement. It was ironic; the tattered spellbook he had found in the garbage pile more than a decade ago belonged to a wizard who lived in the trading city. Without it, he would have never been able to make it this far in his life. Was this fate's way of setting him on his first step on the path towards unlimited power, the power that the whispers in the dark had told him?

With his usually dour spirit in an unusually good mood, the half-elf Seltyiel mused as to whether or not he should give his "benefactor" a calling...

_-Scene Break-_

It was truly a field of swords.

He'd half expected it, of course: between the hushed whispers of travelers coming from North of the island and the warning posters that urged caution when navigating through them, the Cairnlands of the Isle of Kortos was suddenly living up to its dark name. Indeed, it was truly a graveyard of ancient wars fought millennia ago.

Unfortunately, that didn't make his job any easier. He allowed himself to sigh as he unfurled the map given to him by the cleric, squinting to decipher the minuscule and near-illegible scribbles of Common. If what he was reading was correct, he was still close to the splotch of ink that he was sure was Absalom and a good distance away from the circled drawing of a treasure chest. He had a good number of miles to walk before he reached the abandoned tower, but he'd done more than enough of his fair share of traveling on a ship.

"I'm almost there, Sajini," he muttered, placing the map back into the pack at his side as he scanned the landscape for signs of life. Travelers and bandits were the only ones he was likely to run into while on the quest, and though the surrounding area had little to offer anyone or anything in ambush spots or hiding places, he had to be careful. The dead in the ruined earth had enough dead without him. "Just another step closer to our reunion..."

His destination was an ancient bastion in one of the forgotten wars fought over the conquest of Absalom. How old was the tower, no records in the library could tell, but it was rumored in certain crowds that inside of its stony halls, there lay a veritable treasure trove waiting for the first one to claim ownership over the structure. It was a shame that it had been magically sealed upon the death of its former owner, one of the fore-running theories as to why adventurers across the years had been unable to explore the structure.

He had been lucky. The cleric his twin sister had worked for was in desperate need of someone to retrieve an artifact from the recently-opened fortress. It turned out that an earthquake had been powerful enough to shake the foundations hard enough to shatter the western side of its ground floor, enabling one to bypass the magical seal and make way into the fortress. The divine spellcaster had been quick to act on this information and proposed a deal for the nomadic monk.

Retrieve an enchanted icon of Pharasma, the Lady of Graves, and he would receive information as to the whereabouts of his twin sister.

_"The structure should be still unspoiled, seeing as I just learned of this a minute ago. And even in the off chance that something has set up shop inside of the ruin, I've heard many tales of the human warriors of Vudra. I pray that your skills can live up to the tales..."_

Shouldering the pack on his shoulders, Sajan continued his march towards the Fallen Fortress.

_-Scene Break-_

In a realm that even the gods and the Old Ones could not reach without incurring dire consequences, the manifestation of humanity's will was in deep thought.

The metaphysical force of Alaya had recently observed its favored servant do his duty, completely obliterating the forces that either threatened the Akashic Records, the Root of all existence, or humanity as a whole. It mattered not as to which one the forces fell into. Both were seen as guilty in its completely remorseless eyes. And the Counter Guardian had carried out its will, blood streaming down his face akin to the flow of tears as he screamed and vanished back into Alaya's force, leaving nothing but a hill of swords atop an endless field of corpses.

But now the manifestation realized something:

The contract that its favorite servant had made with it was complete. In specifics, he had saved the lives of a hundred people dying of a calamity by securing a deal with Alaya. The accumulated years that the hero had given them were equal to the years in its service, a near eternity in duration given the number of problems that spanned across the Kaleidoscope. And during his most recent mission, the contract between them was about to expire.

This was something that had never happened in its entire existence. Most of the servants that had entreaties bargains with it moved onto become true Heroic Spirits and depart from its realm to be incorporated into the Throne of Heroes, a completely different realm of metaphysical existence. That was Root territory, and the will of humanity wasn't stupid enough to draw Guardians from that pool of resources.

If the embodiment of humanity's will was able to feel tangible emotions, it would have felt frustration. Now that the contract was expiring, Alaya was unsure as what to do with its favorite servant. It couldn't exactly "return" his life and send him to the earth that had damned him for becoming a hero. Nor could it send him to the Throne of Heroes, given that his legend was not particularly well-known. The end cop-out was to merely shuffle him along to the Akashic Records, but there was still so much that he could accomplish! Humanity was already in enough danger as it was, so there must have been somewhere to place him!

It saw its solution. Through several rotations of the Kaleidoscope, it discovered a world, where humanity lived in an Age of the Gods and used an entirely different source of energy to bring about their mysteries. Alongside them lived several races though to be myth in the hero's old world, the proud and stoic dwarves, the poised yet capricious elves, the hardy and adaptive halflings, the brutal and violent orcs.

If it could have, Alaya would have rubbed intangible hands in glee. It was perfect! This form of humanity, if not the whole world, was in constant danger of being erased from existence, be it the malevolent whims of a god or the mechanization of a deranged human, mad with power. As a favor for past work, it would send the hero to continue doing what he wanted to do; saving people without being shackled to the Counter Force as an emotionless scalpel to lesion the corruption of humanity. It hoped he would see it as a "parting gift".

As the hero faded away, the contract expired. Mustering all of its power, the Counter Force hurtled its favored servant through the Kaleidoscope, through the parallel worlds and universes to reach a small world called Goldarion.

And as it watched the being known as EMIYA begin to manifest himself on a hill of swords, Alaya mused as to whether or not he would accomplish his dream of becoming a hero in this world...

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**Dungeons & Dragons/Pathfinder Role-Play Tip #1: **Books are expensive, and sometimes, you gotta cowboy up and purchase the damn things. Sure they come with helpful information, but unless they have something that doesn't exist elsewhere, such as a campaign module, look for alternative ways to acquire the desired thing. For example, the PC Classes that exist within the _Pathfinder_ system, as well as other 3rd party publishers, are all (for the most part) listed on several websites that float about the internet, such as the Paizo **P**athfinder RPG **R**eference **D**ocument or the **d20** version of the site.

Best part? They're all free. And in addition to several classes for your PCs to choose from, they contain useful information such as spells, feats, equipment and even monsters for them to fight against. All of these can be accessed by any device that can use the internet (even the Amazon Kindle, which I personally use when I DM). So save yourself some money, unless you're hardcore and want to hold the thing in your hands, and look it up. I can guarantee that you'll save money...unless you want to print stuff out, in which case you'll have to pay for printer ink.

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**If you have any comments, threats, flames, criticisms, etc. please don't hesitate to PM me or post a review. I will accept it with my head held low and my body and mind humble. Just try not to overly curse me if I did anything overtly stupid.**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


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